


Yellow Stonecrop

by unseenbox



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd (mentioned) - Freeform, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fluff, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unseenbox/pseuds/unseenbox
Summary: A greenhouse is a great place to sew and think about the future.
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro, Mercedes von Matritz & Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Yellow Stonecrop

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this as both romantic and platonic Mercedes/Dedue, because while I intended it as platonic, I realized it could also be read romantically.
> 
> Also, a happy preemptive Deduesday to all!

When Dedue returned to them, Mercedes prayed. First, she prayed to the Goddess, thanking her for her mercy, and St. Cethleanne, for healing the wounds which scarred him. Then, she prayed to the Duscur gods. She wasn't sure of their names, or if they could hear to her, but they were the gods of his people, the people who'd saved him, and so they must be thanked for looking after them. There must be a god of protection, or maybe a god of travel, someone to shelter you when the roads grew too long. Maybe there wasn't a god for that, but she really hoped there was.

He’d returned with scars and armor and five years of weight on his shoulders, but also with a scarf, and what a wonderful scarf it was! It must have been of Duscur, for she hadn’t seen one like it before, never up close. It wasn’t just the colors which stood out to her, those deep blue, pale gold, and soft red shades. It was the way it was knitted together, too, how the yarn looped together in neat rows. Maybe it was silly of her to notice a scarf at a time like this, but she couldn’t help it. Love went into that scarf, the kind of love that went into her treats when she baked. She wanted to give him something, too, something that would last longer than a pie once eaten. Something tangible and real, so that if he ever wandered far from them again, he would know that his friends loved him, too. Maybe some kind of apron?

She had some spare linen from her last project (nothing much, just an underskirt for her dress), so Mercedes sketched out a pattern, cut it up, and sewed it back together. The apron wasn’t quite finished yet, but the seams and hems were done, and she threaded a cord through the loop at the waist just yesterday. The linen was an eggy white color, and she used a butter yellow bit for the ties, the one at the waist and the one that looped around the neck. She still needed to attach the long pocket in the front, but she wanted to add some embroidery to make it really special, first. This morning she framed the pocket fabric through her hoop, thinking that she’d best start right away.

It was bright and humid outside, but the greenhouse was warm and toasty as always. Weeds overtook most of the plants in the years they’d been gone, but flowers were starting to sprout again. Seeing the little pink and yellow petals among the green leaves brought a smile to her face. She found a stool and claimed it for herself, if only temporarily. She gathered the fabric in her lap, the hoop in her hand, and the needle in her thread. Let’s see, she knew there was a corner where Dedue planted flowers from his homeland, now where were they….

Oh, thank goodness, they’d survived! The Duscur roses stood out with their warm orange colors. Paintbrush flowers grew nearby with soft purple bristles, and blue bell flowers had sprung up, too, curlicuing around the dry, dusty soil. She smiled, and then dipped her head to focus on her sewing. The roses were the largest flowers, so starting with the orange thread to block out the petals would save a lot of time later on! She picked up the thin thread, wrapped a bit of it around her thumb to make a knot, and then began to stitch. Up, down, through, pull. Up, down, through, pull. There was a kind of rhythm to sewing she really liked, and she got lost in it for a little while as she shaped the first rose.

The door to the greenhouse swung open, letting a breeze through along with Dedue. Mercede grinned, surprised but happy, as Dedue still rarely left Dimitri’s side since he’d returned. It was sweet, she thought, though also a little bit sad. Still, their leader and friend seemed like less of a ghost to them than he had been, ever since that terrible battle, so maybe today was a good day? She hoped so. She knew Dimitri didn’t believe it, but she was sure he deserved good days, too. Oh, but Dedue seemed well today, too. He was often so solemn and didn’t smile the way others thought he should, but she could tell when he was happy, all the same. Something about the way his eyes would crinkle.

She finished her current stitch before she raised her head to greet him. “Good morning, Dedue. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

He nodded his acknowledgment. “Mercedes.” He stood still, looking through the glass as the light poured in. He returned his gaze to her. “For now, though I suspect it may rain later. There is a lot of dew in the air.” She heard the warmth in his voice when he spoke.

She hummed in agreement. “It did seem a bit sticky out there.” She folded her hands in her lap, leaning forward. “A little rain might be nice, though. I’m sure it’ll help the flowers outside grow, and there might even be some frogs in the pond!”

Dedue continued his slow walk through the greenhouse. “I have yet to see frogs.” He frowned, a slight pinch to his brows.

Mercedes brushed off her skirt. “It’s okay. They’re very jumpy and I think they usually come out at night, so they can be a little tricky to spot.”

Dedue hummed, seemingly agreeing. The both of them went quiet, but it was a soft kind of quiet. She picked up her sewing again while he retrieved the watering can. He made visits to the flowerbeds, sprinkling the roots with water. His armor clinked as he went, and she hoped it wasn’t pinching him. He still wore the Duscur scarf around his neck despite the heat, and his golden broach gleamed as he went about his work. She finished off her current row of cross-stitched orange, and then raised her head to speak.

“I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but your scarf is absolutely lovely.”

Dedue went still as if a cat had run up along his back. He raised a brow. “Is it?”

“Of course! I’ve never seen one like it before. Someone must have worked very hard to make it. I can tell these things, you know.”

For a moment, a faraway smile spread across his face. Much better than that other look, the one waiting for a dagger to the back. He schooled the smile away, though, continuing. “A man of Duscur wove it.”

Mercedes stood from her stool, picking up her cloth and sewing kit as she went, moving to Dedue’s side. It’d be much easier to hear him if she were closer, after all. “Oh! I had a suspicion, but I didn’t know for sure. The pattern seems a little bit different from the way I’ve been taught.”

Dedue pressed a hand to the scarf. “We use metal hooks to weave. I have been told much of Fódlan prefers long needles.”

“Oh, yes, for knitting! We usually use shorter needles for sewing clothing and decorations. Like these, see?” She reached into her sewing kit – carefully, of course – and pulled out the repurposed cookie tin that contained her needles and thread. His knees creaked as he stood. He left the watering can on the floor so he could peer into the tin.

“I am familiar with these.” His brow furrowed, thoughtful. “You are fond of needlework.” He sounded warm when he spoke, she always thought. Like a candle, the kind that you light at night to keep the dark away.

Mercedes grinned. Her eyes turned up at the corners. “I am! It’s really rewarding, turning leftover pieces into something new and wonderful, or being able to fix something that’s just a little bit worn.” Her smile softened, while her hands inadvertently tightened around the tin. “Even if they’re never quite the same again, I can still keep little things that remind me of… people who are no longer with me.”

“Like the flowers that will grow in Duscur again someday.” Dedue looked to the flowers in the corner, still growing in the dry soil. He sounded so certain of it that for a moment, Mercedes could imagine it, too. An entire field filled with orange rosebushes, and the lilac paintbrushes, and the blue bells, and oh, all sorts of flowers she hadn’t seen yet. Just like the ones she will stitch into the cloth in her hands, so that he will never feel alone.

Mercedes loosened her grip on the tin, the metal springing back with a snap. “Yes! I hope I get to see them, too. They’ll be so beautiful, even more beautiful than the ones you’ve planted here.”

Dedue’s eyes widened, and he stood as if struck by an arrow. For a moment, only the hum of insects could be heard. When he recovered himself, she caught a faint hint of red on his cheeks. “Then you must start with these.” He stooped and picked up the watering can.

She put the cloth in the sewing kit, leaving it on the stool. “Of course! Show me what to do, Dedue,” she said as she rolled up her sleeves.

“Follow me,” he said. So she followed him, listening as he mentioned the dry soil of Duscur, how little watering the plants required, how to water the roots while leaving the leaves dry, and how miraculous it was that these plants in particular survived despite his five year absence. Most of it wasn’t with words, but with the way he would hunch his shoulders to make himself smaller, sometimes, or the way he’d stop and stare at one of the flowers as if he was looking at it through a mirror. She didn’t water the flowers herself, Dedue insisting that they did not need it today, but she watered the ones in the patch nearby and didn’t mind how much splashed onto her skirts.

She said a little prayer to the Goddess and the Duscur god of nature, thanking them for returning Dedue to them, because she was sure the flowers had missed him as much as she had.


End file.
